Labyrinthine
by Jayelyyn
Summary: Before Paul Blofis met the Jacksons, his life was only mildly interesting. Coming across Sally and Percy was definitely a strange experience, and made his life suddenly extremely intricate. Yet, Paul knew that meeting these two wonderful people was something that he would never, ever regret.


**DISCLAIMER:** All characters, plot lines, and dialogue you may recognize belongs to Rick Riordan. I wish no personal gain from this story; this is merely for the fun of it.

 **Author's note:** Happy Birthday, Percy.

If you find any mistakes, tell me (whether in a review or PM, I don't care).

\- Δαιδαλώδης -

Paul's grandparents used to joke around and say that they would never see the day when they came across a girl that was good enough for him. He'd found it funny that anyone could think of Paul in that way, at the time. But now...

 _Boy, were my grandparents wrong..._

Paul wasn't sure that _he_ was good enough for a person like Sally Jackson. She was beautiful, all the way from her long brown hair, streaked with gray, to her ever-changing eyes, to her feet. She was warm, patient, and just plain _good_.

"Paul?"

Whoops. Paul caught himself staring at her, yet again.

"Sorry. Yes?"

Sally laughed, her eyes crinkling at the edges and her lips pulling into a beautiful smile.

They were sitting at a restaurant in the Upper-East side of Manhattan. The place wasn't expensive, nor was it fancy. Just a normal, three-star restaurant that everyday people went to. Yeah, and Paul wouldn't have it any other way.

"So...do you cook?" Sally asked Paul.

Paul cringed. It seemed to be a casual question, but he cared too much about her opinion of him to let her down. Yet, he knew that he needed to maintain a reel of honesty. What was a relationship if you couldn't be honest?

"No," Paul admitted. "My mom always tried to teach me, but it never worked. My kitchen skills are limited to macaroni-and-cheese."

There it was again—that smile, that laugh.

Paul cleared his throat before continuing. "Do _you_ cook?"

Sally's laughter died down enough for her to answer. Her soft eyes twinkled as she said, "Oh, yes. I love to cook. Blue cookies are my specialty—my son and I have this joke about blue food. It's almost all he eats."

Paul chuckled at this statement for only a moment before the full extent of the words washed over him—"You have a _son_?" he blurted.

The beautiful woman's face clouded with a confused expression, before thinking back to her previous sentence and saying, "Yes, haven't I mentioned him before?"

Numbly, Paul shook his head. But he immediately started picturing a four-year-old little bundle of joy with brown hair and twinkling eyes like his mother. The fact that Sally had a son didn't really _bother_ him—it was just shocking, having it sprung on him like that, with the casualty of one discussing the weather with an acquaintance.

Sally's face turned hard—which was odd, considering Paul had never seen her get angry with anyone. Paul hadn't thought that Sally was _capable_ of being angry.

Yet, when she spoke, her voice was calm and polite. "Is there a problem with that?"

"No, of course not!" Paul said without hesitation. "That's...that's—er—great! It's just...why haven't I seen him before?"

For a second, she looked pained, but she said, "Oh, he—he goes to a boarding school. It's not far, but it's not like he can leave campus."

"Oh..." Paul didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't. He just changed the subject and continued to laugh with Sally until dinner was over. That's not to say that Paul wasn't curious.

\- Δαιδαλώδης -

Sally had left her coat in Paul's Prius. The moment Paul saw it still sitting in his backseat when he got home, he took advantage of it. _Use the girl's jacket as an excuse to see her again._

That was exactly what he was doing.

It was four in the afternoon, and it was cold. Paul got out of his car when he pulled up to Sally's apartment complex, grabbed Sally's coat from the backseat, and took the stairs up to the floor she was on.

When he was standing in front of the door, he took a deep breath, smiled to himself, and knocked three times. He waited for a few moments for the door to open...and was met with a sight that he definitely was _not_ expecting.

There was a boy standing in the doorway. He wasn't that tall for around his age (which looked to be about fourteen, though the expression on his face made him look older). He had black, messy hair and a neutral expression on his face, meaning he wasn't smiling, nor was he frowning. But what caught Paul's attention most was his eyes. They were sea-green, and they were alert, as if he was expecting some sort of attack at any second. The boy wasn't standing still; his fingers were tapping against his legs and his right foot was tapping against the floor subconsciously.

Paul took a step back and checked the apartment number beside the door. Nope, he wasn't in the wrong place. He looked back to the boy standing in front of him.

After clearing his throat, Paul said intelligently, "Er—I'm...I'm looking for Sally Jackson?"

The way his voice rose at the end made it sound like a question.

The boy studied him for a second more, and then said, "She's in her room, working...I'm her son, Percy Jackson."

Paul felt his eyes widen. Percy Jackson? _This_ was Sally's son?

Obviously, this was not what Paul had been expecting when Sally had mentioned her son. That little four-year-old bundle of joy? Gone. And this-warrior looking child took his place.

Paul held his hand out. "I'm Paul Blofis."

Percy raised his eyebrows, took Paul's hand, and said, "Oh, nice to meet you. I've heard about you."

The way Percy phrased sentence slightly alarmed Paul. No, he didn't say, _I've heard a lot about you._ Just, _I've heard about you_. It gave Paul no hints as to whether Percy was inclined to like him or not.

Suddenly, Paul realized that he was still standing outside the apartment door. Percy seemed to have had the same thought.

"Oh—come in, I'll get my mom," Percy said, backing up into the living room of the small apartment. Paul closed the door behind him and stood uncomfortably next to the couch as Percy turned and walked down the small hallway leading off to three rooms: Sally's bedroom, the bathroom, and what he had to assume was Percy's room.

"Hey, Mom?" he said, rapping on the door with his knuckles. "Your, er...Mr. Blofis is here."

"Really?" came Sally's voice from the other side. "I wonder...okay, I'll be out in a second."

Percy walked back into the small living room. As he stood there, Paul studied him some more. Again, he wasn't standing still, and his eyes shifted restlessly—he probably had ADD or ADHD or something like that. But the way he stood—it was confident, alert, and yet relaxed and normal at the same time. They were completely contradicting observations, but, somehow, Percy was able to pull it all off at the same time.

Paul worked with kids around Percy's age, and he'd never seen someone that he couldn't read. But he found that he'd have to talk to Percy some more in order to get any insight on him.

"So..." Paul started awkwardly. He cast around for something to say, and then decided on some weird get-to-know-you questions. "How old are you?"

"Fourteen," Percy responded. "I'm fourteen."

More awkward silence.

"What school do you go to?" Paul asked him.

Percy looked down, seeming embarrassed. "MS-54 in Manhattan," he answered in a quiet voice. When he looked up, Percy seemed to be afraid of being judged.

Of course, Paul had heard of that place. It was sort of a place for kids who weren't accepted anywhere else. Paul wanted deeply to ask him why he went to a military school, but he knew that Percy probably wouldn't like that.

Then, Percy laughed dryly. He shook his head, causing his hair to fall into his sharp eyes. "I'm guessing you're wondering why. I'm a _juvenile delinquent_."

He said those last two words like they were some sort of terrible joke—like he'd been called that before, and he didn't like it.

"That's what the teachers call us," he added, somewhat bitterly.

Paul was instantly horrified. What kind of teacher called their own students juvenile delinquents?

"Sounds like you've had some awful teachers," Paul commented.

"You have no idea," Percy said, and then his eyes widened like he hadn't meant to say it.

Paul was immediately curious. "What do you mean?"

Percy shook his head, and in doing so, something shifted on his neck—Paul hadn't noticed it before. It was a necklace of sorts, and it had a few clay beads on it, with designs that Paul couldn't make out from his distance. He was tempted to get closer in order to see what they were, but he resisted the urge and turned his attention back to what Percy was saying.

"It's a long story," Percy grumbled, answering Paul's question—Paul had almost forgotten he'd asked it.

Paul hated awkward silence, and he was usually good at small talk, but Percy wasn't exactly making it easy for him. But, right then, Sally walked in from her room, wearing blue jeans and a loose t-shirt.

"Um, hello, Paul. Is there a reason you're here?"

Paul felt his cheeks heat a little. "Yes, I...you left your coat in my car today, and I wanted to return it, but..." His eyes flickered over to Percy, who was now sitting on the couch.

"Oh," Sally said, catching on. "Well, Paul...I see you've met Percy, my son."

Not knowing what to say, Paul just murmured lamely, "Yeah."

Suddenly, Percy was standing up again. "I'll just...go do my homework...in my room. Have fun," he added quietly, gesticulating vaguely toward Paul and Sally.

Sally laughed as Percy retreated into his room. "Have fun? You're only here to return my jacket...or are you?" she added, turning to Paul.

"Okay, I must confess..." Paul stood and made his way over to Sally. There, he put his hands on her shoulders and leaned in close. "I used this jacket as an excuse to see you."

Sally smiled her beautiful smile and said, "I must confess and say that I'm glad you did."

They leaned into each other, and they kissed. Right in the middle of it, though, there came a fourteen-year-old's voice: "Hey, Mom, have you seen my—oh, nope. Nope! Abort mission! I'll look for my shirt later."

And with that, Percy disappeared once again into the small hallway leading to his and Sally's rooms, and Paul laughed along with his girlfriend.

\- Δαιδαλώδης -

Finally— _finally_ —it was the end of the school year. For a whole three months, Paul would not have to worry about grading his students papers or making sure their grades were properly entered into the school gradebook. A week after school was over, Paul was headed to the Jacksons' apartment to surprise Sally and Percy with a stew that he had somehow managed to make on his own.

What Paul found when he stepped into the apartment, though, wasn't exactly what he had expected.

Sally had a laptop open in front of her, and Percy was spread out over the couch, looking embarrassed and exhausted. Paul realized suddenly how much taller Percy had gotten since he first met him—at least four inches of height were added to his (what _used_ to be) relatively small stature. Sally looked as beautiful as ever.

Neither of the Jacksons had noticed Paul's arrival.

"Mom," Percy said in a resigned sort of voice, "it's hopeless. We've applied to six schools—"

"No, Percy," Sally interrupted sternly, "it's not hopeless. You, of all people, have no right to be pessimistic. We _will_ find a school that will take you, and if they don't, I'll march up to them and make _sure_ they take a second look at your record."

Paul was shocked. He knew that Percy had been kicked out of a few schools when he was younger, but he had no idea it was _that_ bad—Percy never really talked about it. And secondly, he had never heard Sally sound more determined.

"Mom, six schools have rejected me. I should just go to public school...it's so much less hassle."

"No!" Sally said fervently. "You will _not_ have you go to public school—the teachers will look at your record and instantly despise you and judge you, and the students will get word of your past or your... _condition_...and will torment you! I will not put you through that!"

Paul started to make his way toward the two Jacksons. He could see Percy roll his eyes and sit up on the couch, his black hair falling into his eyes. He frowned and said, "Mom, do you really think I can't handle some hateful teachers and school bullies?"

Sally sighed and turned around to face her son. Her hair was in a long braid down her back, and her yellow shirt complimented the color nicely.

Paul quickly snapped out of his thoughts and wondered if this was considered eavesdropping. Yeah, it probably was. Paul cleared his throat quietly, ready to alert Sally and Percy to his presence.

"You have enough to deal with outside of school, what with all the mons—"

"Er—Sally?" Paul said.

Sally's head whipped around and Percy jumped and looked up.

"Oh—erm—hello, Paul," Sally said. "Yes?"

Paul studied their faces for a moment, and then asked curiously, "What are you doing?"

Percy's cheeks tinted and he leaned back into the couch, embarrassed. After he stared at Paul for a minute, he answered resignedly, "Trying to find a school for me to go to next year."

Paul only nodded and sat down on the opposite side of the small table from Sally, setting his stew down in front of him. His eyes roamed the numerous papers, letters, and lists that scattered the wooden surface. They were all printed papers from school websites, or opened letters from the schools themselves.

"Any luck?" he asked politely.

Percy's eyes darkened, and Sally's determination grew blatantly stronger.

"None at all," Percy said, the same time that Sally said, "We're getting there."

Paul raised his eyebrows at the contradicting statements. Percy sent a glare to his mom (and Percy was unnaturally good at glaring, with his intense eyes), but Sally just gave her son a disapproving look.

"The Manhattan area has tons of different schools," Paul said, trying to sound comforting. "I know you'll find somewhere that will take you."

Too late, Paul realized that this statement—if taken that way—could sound extremely rude and mocking. He felt himself flush with embarrassment and immediately opened his mouth to apologize. However, Percy took it the way Paul meant it.

"Maybe," Percy sighed, "but we've tried so many already, and...well..."

"Those six schools have no idea what they're missing out on," Sally said firmly.

Percy just rolled his eyes. "They know _exactly_ what they're missing out on. A school field trip ruined, maybe, or a 'disrespected' teacher. I mean, come on! Maybe I _do_ have a temper, but that's not my fault! They just don't like me, and with _one_ wrong word in the proximity of my elders, they send me packing. Ultimately, I blame my dad." Percy made a face. "If they think _I_ have a temper..."

Sally laughed, picking up a few papers, straightening them, and throwing them in the trash. The papers sat there, unmoving and rejected. For some reason, the three of them stared at them for a while, until Paul cleared his throat and asked, "Can I help in any way?"

Percy tore his eyes from the papers in the bin and cringed as Sally pushed a notepad toward him.

"These are the schools we've tried already," Sally said, pointing to a list of schools on the notepad now resting on the table in front of him. "Could you help to find more schools in this general area? I'm working on applying to—"

"Sally."

Paul's girlfriend cut off and shifted her eyes from the notepad to him. "Yes?"

He looked back down at the notepad in front of him. There were six schools under the title "Denied," and eight under the title, "Expelled." Paul wondered vaguely if he could actually make this work. Steeling himself, he took a deep breath and plunged on.

"He's going into ninth grade, right?"

Percy nodded slowly, and Sally narrowed her eyes, comprehension dawning in them.

"Yes, Paul, but...I don't think that's such a great idea..."

Paul shook his head, not hearing it. "No, Sally, it's great! I can put in a good word, seeing as I know him, and make them look twice at his record."

Percy had obviously been confused, but at that Percy muttered, "Are you sure you _want_ them looking twice at my record? Because it might seem worse the second time."

"What did I say about pessimism, young man?" Sally asked in a jokingly stern sort of voice.

"It's not pessimism, Mom, it's the truth."

"You cannot state a truth about the future. The best you can do is assume."

"Well, then, it's an extremely educated and unbiased _assumption_."

"I am not _biased_."

"Of _course_ you're biased. You're my _mom_."

Sally scoffed, leveling her eyes back to the computer and typing at lightning speed. "Well, it shouldn't have to take a _biased mom_ for people to look twice at your record—or any record."

Paul watched their argument in bemusement. They bickered like a regular family with a teenaged son would do, but there was something different about it—every word, even if it was sarcastic or somewhat hurtful, was backed up with a tone of love.

There was silence after this small bout of playful banter, and Paul cleared his throat.

"Sally, I could maybe—"

"Wait!" Percy said suddenly, as if he was having a breakthrough. "You told me you were a teacher, right? Is that what you're talking about? Because—"

"Yes, that's what I'm talking about. It's a great idea! Since I know you, I could convince them to give you a chance." Paul's mind was reeling with the idea, but he was instantly shot down.

"No," Percy and Sally said at the same time.

Paul let out a breath. "What? Why?"

Percy and his mom exchanged a brief glace.

"I don't think you get it, Paul," Percy said, his voice low. "I don't want anything to happen to your school. I have...the _worst_ luck in the world."

Paul couldn't make himself understand how someone could have _such_ bad luck that they got kicked out of every school they went to—but if he'd learned _anything_ about the Jacksons, it was that they weren't normal. They might had tried to conceal it, but Paul had spent enough time with the both of them to notice the small things.

"Goode High School is a great place, and they can help _everyone_. I think you should give it a chance."

"And I don't want to _take_ the chance that I accidentally blow up your gym like it did at—"

Paul raised his eyebrows, but before he could say anything, Sally interjected, "Maybe you _should_ give it a try, Percy."

" _What?"_

"I mean," Sally continued quickly, "what do you have to lose?"

Percy had an incredulous look on his face. "Are you serious?"

"Very," Sally said firmly, nodding.

Raising his eyebrows, Percy studied Sally and Paul for at least a full minute. And then his shoulders sagged, and he sighed.

"Fine," Percy said resignedly. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

\- Δαιδαλώδης -

Orientation day was one of Paul's favorite days in the year. Countless fourteen-year-olds from countless middle schools would all be coming together to attend the same high school—Goode. There was something poetic about it.

Paul had fought _hard_ to get Percy Jackson into Goode High School. The staff all took a look at his record and immediately rejected him, but Paul couldn't let them do it. The principal and vice-principal, the counselors, and some of the teachers all didn't want Percy to attend, due to the fact that Percy had somehow managed to destroy every other school he'd gone to (this was a bit of a hyperbole, but seriously...). In the end, though, Paul's good reputation had ended up doing good for him—they had listened to his recommendation, and they had decided to give Percy a chance.

After all of that, Paul had vowed to always look further into a student than just their record when helping with acceptance letters.

He was currently standing just outside the back entrance to Goode, talking to one of the new freshmen.

"Are you excited for the upcoming school year?" Paul asked the red-headed girl predictably.

"I guess you could say that. The only thing I've done over the summer is visit the Hoover Dam, so I'm excited to be doing _something_ with my time other than drawing—though, I would be okay with just doing that for the rest of my life. It's entertaining enough."

 _A talker_ , Paul thought amusedly to himself. "What was the Hoover Dam like?" he asked aloud.

"Er..." The girl seemed to think on it, and then said simply, "Big. There was this weird...never mind. I'm Rachel, by the way." She held out her hand.

"Mr. Blofis. I teach English here—all grades."

"Cool! Maybe I'll have you as a teacher."

"Maybe."

"See you then! Er—maybe..."

Paul laughed as she walked off to the other end of the hallway and started talking to someone else. He decided to go and stand by the back entrance so that people would know where it was, just in case someone wanted to use it. But as he walked up to it, he noticed someone familiar standing between two of the cheerleaders.

"Percy?"

Percy looked extremely nervous, and then extremely relieved at hearing Paul's voice.

The two cheerleaders backed up a little, and Percy quickly moved past them, accidentally banging one of them in the knee, resulting in a muffled _thud_.

"Ow," the one named Kelli said. "Watch it, _fish_."

Paul frowned at the offensive tone she used, but he didn't say anything. Percy was dashing down the hallway in order to get to the English teacher.

"There you are!" Paul said enthusiastically. "Welcome to Goode!"

"Hey, Paul—uh, Mr. Blofis."

Paul couldn't help but laugh a little at the mix-up—he could tell that this would probably be a problem in classes. And then he noticed how nervous Percy actually looked—he was a little jumpier than usual. One hand was in his pocket, and the other tapping against his leg at an unfathomable speed.

"Percy, you look like you've seen a ghost."

"Yeah, uh—"

Paul clapped Percy on the back. "Listen, I know you're nervous, but don't worry. We get a lot of kids here with ADHD and dyslexia. The teachers know how to help."

Somehow, Percy looked faintly amused by this, but also a little sick at the same time. Paul was just about to say something else when something seemed to catch Percy's attention down the hallway. He didn't look, for he didn't want to be obvious. And then Percy's eyes widened, his face tinged pink, and he blurted, "Where's the orientation?"

"The gym." He pointed. "That way. But—"

"Bye."

"Percy?" Paul called, but the fourteen-year-old was already running down the hallway without looking back. "What..."

Paul huffed and returned to the back entrance of the school.

An hour or so later, Paul found himself standing by the wall in the gym, observing the giant crowd of soon-to-be-freshmen. The marching band played—not very good, due to the fact that they'd only had one hour-long rehearsal the day before—but they still played. Some chosen seniors (mostly student council members) were lined up in front of the crowd, wearing the school uniform. There were posters and signs everywhere, the teachers were all mostly excited, and the cheerleaders were warming up the a back corner.

The principal gave his speech, which only a few of the students seemed to pay attention to. But some of the students perked up when he announced, "And here are the Goode High School cheerleaders!"

"Hi, guys!" one of them said in a high, bubbly voice. "My name is Tammi, and this is, like, Kelli." Kelli promptly did a cartwheel. "Welcome to Goode! Happy Orientation Day! Today, we're going to slit you up into groups and you're all going to be assigned a teacher..."

As Tammi continued to explain, Paul saw one of the students get up from their spot on the bleachers and start to make their way down—it was Rachel. And, soon after that, Percy followed.

Paul was confused, and slightly put out by this turn of events. But he tried not to judge the situation. Maybe he or Rachel was feeling sick? He _had_ looked kind of peaky in the hallway...

His curiosity ate at him while they split up all of the students into groups. Paul was assigned a group of about fifteen freshmen. They had nice manners, and they weren't loud in any way. He led them around the school, showing them the cafeteria, and the way the school was set up (each hallway had it's own subject).

Just as they started approaching the fine arts section—band, orchestra, choir, theatre, art—Paul heard a loud _CRASH!_ and someone shouting in a frightened voice, "Percy! Why did you throw that?"

Paul's heart squeezed, and then dropped. There was another bang, and then crash, and then something was shouted that gave Paul hope.

"Stop it!" Percy said, sounding desperate.

Something else, too quiet for them to hear, was said.

Paul ran, halfheartedly saying over his shoulder, "Wait here," but of course, the others ignored him and ran along behind. Before he could get to them, though, the doors to the band room were flung wide open by—Kelli?

But, at the sight that greeted them, he and the crowd stepped back in shock. Percy had come walked briskly up to Kelli with a bat in his hand, getting ready to swing it one-handed. Kelli turned and cowered—somewhat unconvincingly, in Paul's opinion.

"Oh no, please!" she said.

Percy swung, but just before it hit her—something strange happened. Flames appeared out of nowhere and started to spread, slowly, from the door to the inside of the band room. He didn't know where they came from, and Kelli was gone...Wait, Kelli? Who was Kelli...? No, the flames had been started by—Percy? But no, that couldn't be true.

No.

But he found himself saying anyway, "Percy? What have you done?"

He didn't mean this in an accusatory way. Not at all. Did he?

No. He didn't. Percy couldn't have caused this.

Paul believed in him.

The sprinklers sprang to life, dousing all of them in water and slowly extinguishing the fire that had just started to spread faster. Soon, the flames were gone, leaving ashes littered over the floor and the bottom of the walls. Percy looked awful—panicked, desperate, and extremely regretful.

Through the chaos, Paul heard Rachel say to Percy, "You have to get out of here!"

 _No! Won't running from the scene make it worse?_ But Percy seemed to agree with Rachel, and he turned around and sprinted toward the window. But just as he jumped out, Percy turned his head and sent Paul a look that very clearly sent his apologies.

 _Don't say I didn't warn you._

Percy's warning reverberated in Paul's head. He hadn't taken it seriously before, but...

 _Don't say I didn't warn you._

That was what Percy's eyes reminded him. And yes, Percy _did_ warn him.

The boy's form disappeared through the broken band room window.

 _Don't say I didn't warn you._

Maybe this wasn't Percy's fault.

Paul would fight for Percy's position in this school, twenty times harder than he had in the first place. Because Paul knew that Percy wasn't really responsible for this, somehow. He had faith in Sally, and in Percy. He knew them better than this.

\- Δαιδαλώδης -

"No, Dr. Boring, I don't believe that this was Percy's fault."

"No! He got nervous, and he fled! Nobody even seems to remember that much about what happened, anyway! There are no cameras in the band room; there are no witnesses that can actually remember clearly the events! You can't prove that Percy did this!"

"None of you seem to think that, possible, Rachel Dare did this! You want to kick him out because of his record—well, didn't we all agree to give him a chance? You wouldn't expel _Rachel_ , would you?"

"Percy's a good person. I know him, and he wouldn't do this—and if he did, he would never do this on purpose."

Fighting for Percy was hard, but it was worth it.

\- Δαιδαλώδης -

It was Percy's fifteenth birthday. He had one of those birthdates that schools were never sure about—so, this year, he would be starting at Goode as a fifteen-year-old, not a fourteen-year-old.

When Percy had fled from the band room at the high school, Percy had stayed missing for _weeks_. In that time frame, Mount St. Helens blew up, and a few days after that, Sally had been informed that Percy had died in some sort of accident. She had been heartbroken for three days after that, and Paul hadn't known how to comfort her, really. So he just stayed by her side, and she leaned into his shoulder, and they both held tight. Until Sally got another call—and Percy, apparently, was alive!

They both burst out into hysterical laughter after that call, they were so relieved. Everything was right in the world.

Well, everything was right in the world until Paul saw Percy for the first time after he got back.

Percy had changed.

He was tired-looking, and definitely a lot thinner than before. He had this look in his eyes that Paul couldn't place...and it was awful. Percy's normally goofy attitude had become more somber, and his feet seemed to drag when he walked at times. He was _sad—_ and that was understatement of the century. Sad and weary.

Despite everything, Sally insisted on throwing a party. She made blue birthday cake, blue cookies, and Paul asked Percy to help him with the punch in the kitchen.

His intentions, really, weren't to get help with the punch.

They both sat down, and he said, "I hear your mom signed you up for driver's ed this fall."

"Yeah. It's cool. I can't wait."

The way he said it—it didn't sound sincere at all.

Paul observed Percy for a second, and then stated the obvious. "You've had a rough summer." Then, a little deeper, "I'm guessing you lost someone important. And...girl trouble?"

Percy looked shocked for a second. He'd hit the mark.

"How do you know about that? Did my mom—"

Paul took his hands off of his cup of punch and raised them placatingly. "Your mom hasn't said a thing. And I won't pry. I just know there's something unusual about you, Percy. You've got a lot going on that I can't figure. But I was also fifteen once"— _the good old days_ —"and I'm just guessing from your expression...Well, you've had a rough time."

Another understatement. Percy looked like he was trying hard to fight something—like he was walking into a war, and he knew that he wouldn't make it out. But that was crazy—Percy was fifteen. He'd lost someone close, maybe, and that was his war. A fifteen-year-old shouldn't have to deal with anyone's death. It was way too young.

Percy seemed to consider something, before he said, "I lost a couple of friends at this camp I go to. I mean, not close friends, but still..."

"I'm sorry." He couldn't think of anything adequate to say.

"Yeah. And, uh, I guess the girl stuff..."

"Here." Paul handed Percy some punch, saving him the trouble of trying to explain his problems. "To your fifteenth birthday. And to a better year to come."

Percy cringed at this, but they tapped their cups anyway.

Paul counted to three, and then plunged right it. "Percy, I kind of feel bad giving you one more thing to think about." _Too late to back down, now. Suck it up, Paul. Get it out._ "But I wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?"

"Girl stuff."

Percy frowned. "What do you mean?"

A small part of him had hoped that he wouldn't have to explain, but he went on, "Your mom. I'm thinking about proposing to her."

Percy's cup actually slipped a little in his hand, but he gripped it tighter. Sitting up straight, he said, "You mean...marrying her? You and her?"

"Well, that was the general idea. Would that be okay with you?"

"You're asking my permission?"

Percy said this in a shocked manner, and Paul mentally cringed, awkwardly scratching his beard. "I don't know if it's permission, so much, but she's your mother. And I know you're going through a lot. I wouldn't feel right if I didn't talk to you about it first, man to man."

"Man to man..." Percy repeated.

And yes, Percy was a man. Too much of one.

"I think that's a great idea, Paul. Go for it."

Paul couldn't help the giant smile that spread across his face then. "Cheers, Percy. Let's join the party."

An hour later found them all sitting around the table, singing to Percy.

"Happy birthday to you; happy birthday to you; happy birthday, dear Percy; happy birthday to you!"

They all cheered, and Percy took a giant breath in order to blow out his fifteen candles...and someone knocked on the door.

 _What happened to the doorman?_

"Who could that be?" Paul wondered, frowning thoughtfully.

They—Percy and Sally—both stood up. Sally opened the door, and gasped.

Paul couldn't decide if that was a good or a bad thing.

It was a man—a very good-looking man, that reminded Paul of someone that he coudn't really place. He was wearing an exceptionally colorful shirt, Bermuda shorts, and Birkenstocks. He had sea-green eyes, black hair and beard, and he was wearing a battered hat/cap decorated with fishing lures. The words on it—NEPTUNE'S LUCKY FISHING HAT.

Paul could appreciate the reference—Neptune, the Roman god of the seas. But he couldn't really get past the fact that this person—this very good-looking man—was standing in the doorway of Sally's apartment.

And, to make matters a little worse, Sally was blushing hard.

Percy just looked completely and utterly shocked.

"Pos—" Sally started, and then stopped herself. "Um, hello."

"Hello, Sally," the man said. "You look as beautiful as ever. May I come in?"

Sally squeaked a little, and the man seemed to take it as a yes. He walked in calmly and looked around. Paul couldn't stop looking back and forth between them, trying to figure out a connection. After nobody said anything, he stepped forward, held out his hand, and said, "Hi, I'm Paul Blofis."

The man raised his eyebrows as he took his hand. They were calloused, yet strangely soft. His handshake was a little too firm.

"Blowfish, did you say?"

Paul mentally cringed a little. He'd heard that one too many times. "Ah, no. Blofis, actually."

"Oh, I see." He seemed a little disappointed by this—and maybe he was, judging by his clothing. "A shame. I quite like blowfish. I am Poseidon."

 _Poseidon? That can't be his actual name...Or, maybe that's where he got his obvious preference for fishing from?_ Aloud, he said, "Like the god of the sea."

"Very much like that, yes." He seemed to be enjoying some sort of joke that Paul didn't understand.

"Well!" Sally interrupted quickly. "Um, we're so glad you could drop by. Paul, this is Percy's father."

"Ah." How could he not have seen this before? Now that he looked, it was blaringly obvious. It made Paul feel quite a bit worse. "I see."

Poseidon turned and smiled at Percy. "There you are, my boy. And Tyson, hello, son!"

Tyson—the gigantic, fun-loving, child-like kid—bounded up to Poseidon, yelling, "Daddy!" He promptly gave him a huge hug, and Paul was vaguely surprise that Poseidon didn't topple over at the impact.

But there was a more pressing matter. His jaw had dropped. "Tyson is..."

"Not mine," Sally promised, and Paul let out a small breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "It's a long story."

"I couldn't miss Percy's fifteenth birthday. Why, if this were Sparta, Percy would be a man today!"

 _Yes! Common ground!_ Maybe it would make things less awkward if Paul could relate to something that Poseidon knew about, and Paul loved mythology.

"That's true. I used to teach ancient history."

A smile tugged at Poseidon's mouth, and his eyes—so like Percy's—sparkled. "That's me. Ancient history. Sally, Paul, Tyson...would you mind if I borrowed Percy for just a moment?"

He put his arm around Percy and steered him into the kitchen, leaving a confused Paul, and ruffled Sally, and a gleeful Tyson behind them.

\- Δαιδαλώδης -

Paul was not an idiot.

He knew that Poseidon probably hadn't left through the fire escape, and the Nico probably hadn't arrived through the fire escape, because—one, the entrance/exit to the fire escape was in Percy's room, and Paul hadn't seen Poseidon cross the living room to get to it. Two—who took the fire escape in order to get six floors up? That seemed unnecessarily exhausting.

But what other choice did he have but to accept it? It wasn't like either of them could magically teleport themselves out of the kitchen or into Percy's room. So, yes, Paul grudgingly agreed that they both used the fire escape, because that was the only think that made sense.

Right?

Pretty soon, though, nothing was going to make sense. Nothing at all.

Thought Paul couldn't have known that.

\- Δαιδαλώδης -

"Perc— _Percy_?"

Paul, for some reason, had decided to walk to work today. The only thing he'd needed to take was a bag—just one bag, as opposed to the three that he usually needed. Percy had agreed to walk with him, at first. But then, after breakfast when he went to get his backpack and put his shoes on, something made him change his mind. He'd rushed back out of his room, said he'd gotten a ride, and told Paul to go on without him.

So, stumbling upon Percy just a block away from Goode, especially in the state he was in, caught Paul completely off guard.

Percy had golden dust stuck in his hair, his jaw was bruised, and his arms looked like they had road burn, as if he'd been tossed across a street and slid a few feet before coming to a stop. His school uniform was torn, and he was missing both shoes and one sock. His white shirt had a long, thin bloodstain on it—and as much as Paul didn't want it to be someone else's, he wanted it to be Percy's even less.

" _Percy!"_

"Oh." Percy straightened up and smiled as if everything were completely normal. "Hey, Paul."

 _Hey? Is he serious?_

Paul's mouth was wide open in shock.

"What _happened_ to you?" he asked incredulously, rushing forward to check on Percy's injuries.

"Paul," Percy tried in a placating tone, holding up his hand to stall him, but Paul cut him off.

"No, Percy. Who—what—did this to you?"

Percy took a step back and pulled his arm gently away from Paul. His face was obviously extremely uncomfortable. "I think I'll just—"

"Whose blood is that?" Paul asked sternly, gesturing to Percy's chest.

Percy's brow furrowed, and he looked down. For a moment, he looked vaguely surprised, and he brought his hand up to press on the thin streak of blood. His slight cringe gave Paul all the answer he needed.

"Er—mine..."

"Percy!"

"What? Paul, I'll just go home and have Mom—"

Paul held up his hand to cut Percy off. He couldn't understand why Percy didn't want any help—he was _bleeding_ , and he was quite obviously trying to go off on his own. Paul knew this for this reason: "You and I both know that your mom is attending a seminar today."

"She is?" Percy asked, feigning surprise (unconvincingly).

Paul huffed. "Yes. She is."

"Huh." Paul noticed that Percy had subtly shifted his weight to stand on one leg, as if the other was in pain. He narrowed his eyes slightly, but Percy continued, "Look, Paul, I know it looks bad, but when I show up at school today— _yes_ , I'm planning on showing up—I could be completely healed. Just let me..."

Paul closed his eyes and took a deep, long breath. "Percy, I can't just let you—"

He cut off when he saw that Percy wasn't anywhere to be seen, but then he heard a voice from right behind him say, "You can call Mom if you want, but she'll say the same thing. Please, Paul. Do you trust me?"

That was a difficult question to answer at a time like this, and Paul knew what Percy was trying to do—guilt him into ignoring this whole confrontation and going back to school and teaching. But how was he supposed to just let Percy walk off with such injuries, while he went and spent eight hours talking to students that hardly really paid any attention?

" _Of course_ I trust you, Percy. Just—"

"Have faith," Percy said suddenly. "I'll be okay. Alright? I'll see you after school—maybe even in class. Okay?"

Percy was too mature for his own good. Or maybe he wasn't. As Paul had observed before, Percy had really conflicting personalities.

He took a deep breath.

"Okay."

Percy paused. "Really?"

Paul raised his eyebrows at him. "Yes, really. On one condition: You really are going to be in class today. Fourth period. You miss enough school as it is."

Percy stood up straight, saluted, and said, "Yes, sir."

Laughing a little, Paul started walking backward, away from Percy. "See you there."

"You sure will."

Somehow, Paul managed to make himself turn around and walk to the school.

And, looking pretty much as good as new, Percy showed up in class that day.

They greeted each other, and that was it.

That was enough.

\- Δαιδαλώδης -

Paul had proposed nervously, and Sally had said yes, and they were now officially engaged. That had been the most exciting experience of his life. Thrilling. And they had come home, and Percy had congratulated them, and everything was perfect.

Until...well...

Percy and Sally were discussing something in the kitchen while Paul sat in the living room, scanning through their DVDs for a movie to watch. The popcorn was made, the wine was out (for the two adults), and the real food was in the oven.

Paul put in a movie, sat down on the couch, and wait for two of the most important people in his life to walk in and sit down with him. When the swinging door opened, though, it was only Percy that came through, and he looked nervous.

"What's going on, Percy?" Paul asked.

Percy sat down on the couch two feet from Paul and stared at the TV for a moment. Suddenly, he turned and blurted out, "Paul, I'm a demigod."

Paul laughed. "I guess, technically, you are...considering your father's name."

Percy sighed. "No, seriously. I'm...half-mortal, half-god. All of the Greek mythology stuff you love? Yeah, it's real."

"Wouldn't that be cool?"

The fifteen-year-old cringed. "Not really. But...I'm dead serious. Look at me and tell me if I'm lying to you."

Paul, smiling, turned fully to look at Percy in the face. Some of him expected them to both suddenly burst out laughing at his joke, but no...Percy really did look dead serious. Paul could tell that he probably meant everything he was saying—though, that was impossible.

"You know there's something strange about me, right? About us?" Percy said. When Paul raised an eyebrow to convey, _Uh...of course,_ Percy continued, "All the times I've gone missing, they were for quests. That whole...kidnapping thing when I was twelve? That was because a god kidnapped my mom and I went on a quest to get her back. I was cornered at the top of the St. Louis Arch by Echidna and her Chimera, and it blew up, and I fell into the river below. The god of war—I don't want to say his name, because I don't want to draw his attention—got in a fight with me. Mount St. Helens? Yeah, er..." Percy paused a little. "I did that."

Paul tried to process this information. Percy had said it all seriously fast. He was just a little stricken dumb.

"Do you need more?" Percy asked, axiety clear on his face. "Well, when I was thirteen, I sailed the Sea of Monsters to save my best friend, Grover. And when I was fourteen—I had just gotten back from my third quest to save Annabeth—er, I mean, Artemis—from a titan. I held up the weight of the sky. That...sucked. A lot. That's why this gray hair is from." He pointed to the spot on his hair that Paul had always wondered about. "Er...after blowing up Mount St. Helens (by accident, of course), I got stranded on Ogygia, which is—"

"Calypso's island," Paul interrupted, his voice a little hoarse. "You were stranded on...you met Calypso?" _But that's impossible._ Though, somehow, it made sense.

"Yes. Yeah, I did." Percy looked wistful, and Paul was pretty sure that _that_ was what finally convinced him that maybe...maybe... _maybe_ Percy was telling the truth? "That was when everyone thought I had died. And then there was this battle, and..."

"Okay, okay, you can stop," Paul said, holding up a hand. "So, your dad is... _actually_..."

"Poseidon, yes," Percy said.

"Erm...wow."

Percy laughed a little. "Yeah, I guess _wow_ does a pretty good job of summing it up."

"You fell from the top of the St. Louis Arch?" Paul said, just processing this.

"Uh...yeah. Into the river below. To be honest, that was freaking terrifying, but hey, I'm here now, aren't I?"

"I suppose you are..."

\- Δαιδαλώδης -

It was an interesting school year. But, it was one of the best he'd ever had.

And when summer came, he looked forward to spending it with his wife and stepson.

And then he was warned about an impending war.

And then he was warned that Percy was smack in the center of it.

That...sucked.

And so, when Rachel came back to Percy and Sally with Paul's (newly and severely dented) car with the news that Percy had finally been given his cue, they both nodded and went on with their business. But, really, they were both extremely worried. Percy was in the middle of a war! Why should a nearly-sixteen-year-old have to deal with this? Drafting teenaged boys into war was an old-time thing, it was a bad thing, it was a heartbreaking thing. Percy had tried to tell them that it was their duty as demigods to fight to keep the world safe from "Big Uglies," as Percy called them, but that hardly made Paul—or Sally, for that matter—feel better about it.

What felt like much, much later—though it was really only a handful of days—he and Sally were on their way to a writing seminar when, suddenly, everything just started going black...he felt sleepy...Maybe he'd just take a nap...

Hours, or days, or maybe just minutes later, he awoke rather abruptly. He wasn't sure what had done it, and he didn't really care. Had he really just fallen asleep? He had no idea what had gotten into him...

He heard a gasp. Sally had woken up, too, and she was staring out the window...where a bunch of people were having a heated debate.

"Oh dear, that looks bad," Sally said worriedly.

"What..." He trailed off as he looked closer, and suddenly the previous image wasn't there anymore. What he saw was over a million times worse.

They were in the middle of a war, and the people around them probably hadn't noticed a thing.

Both of them—Sally and Paul—immediately got out of the car. He could see Nico di Angelo fighting his way toward them, but Paul didn't wait. He crouched, grabbed a sword from one of the fallen (which he felt vaguely guilty about, but he ignored it for the time being), and started fighting one of the monsters that had tried attacking him. It was a women, with two _things_ for legs—something slithery. He blocked one of her blows, ducked another, and stabbed the thing in the gut. It disintegrated.

"Paul?" he heard an amazed voice say from a short distance.

Paul turned toward the voice—which he knew to be Percy's—and grinned. "I hope that was a monster I just killed. I was a Shakespearian actor in college!" He was mildly embarrassed that he'd admitted this. "Picked up a little swordplay!"

Percy just kept looking amazed, but now he was smiling. Suddenly, he looked over to Paul's left, and he yelled, "Mom!"

Paul looked over, too. Some sort of giant was coming up from behind Sally, who was rummaging in an abandoned police car. At Percy's voice, she immediately turned around, raised the gun she had gotten out of the car, cocked it, and shot the giant. It flew backward twenty feet, straight into Nico di Angelo's sword.

"Nice one," Paul said. Sally smiled.

"When did you learn to fire a shotgun?" Percy asked incredulously.

"About two seconds ago." She blew the hair out of her face, looking sort of conflicted, but resolute. "Percy, we'll be fine. Go!"

"Yes," Nico agreed, "we'll handle the army. You have to get Kronos!"

"Come on, Seaweed Brain!" Annabeth Chase, Percy's not-girlfriend said. Percy nodded, looking around.

"Mrs. O'Leary," Percy said. Paul remembered meeting Mrs. O'Leary for the first time—she was the size of their living room. "Please, Chiron's under there. If anyone can dig him out, you can. Find him! Help him!" And then he and three of his friends turned and sprinted for the doors to the Empire State Building.

What felt like forever later, everything seemed to just...stop. All of the monsters froze, and the demigods hacked at the rest of them while they were still. Soon after they were all gone, Sally and Paul were standing by their car, with their arms around each other.

"I'm worried about him," Sally said. "I think we won. But what about Percy?"

"I don't know," Paul admitted. "But if we won, I think that says something good about his chances."

"I certainly hope so."

 _Hope_. Paul smiled at the thought. Hope kept them going, all the time. Each occasion where Percy went missing, they had hope. And he always came home. Why should this time be any different?

And, not too long after, Sally's beautiful face was suddenly engulfed in a huge smile. She pointed upward. "Look at that, Paul."

Paul tilted his head back and looked up at the top of the Empire State Building, where a gigantic blue flag was swaying violently in the wind.

"He's okay," Sally said. "It's over."

"It's over," Paul agreed.

They stood there, unable to take their eyes off of the symbol that Percy was, indeed, alright.

\- Δαιδαλώδης -

Everything seemed to be going great. Percy was going to school again, he helped out at camp, and Paul was back to working at Goode. Sally was working on her book. They were doing good; they were something close to normal.

Well, as normal as life with the Jacksons could _possibly_ get.

Christmas was coming. Percy was going to visit Camp Half-Blood for a week before Christmas, and then come home so that they could celebrate it together. Paul had already bought his choices of presents for Sally and Percy, and he was more excited than he'd ever been (except, perhaps, for the day of his wedding, and a few days before).

They hadn't heard from Percy for two days, which was odd, since he usually Iris-Messaged every night. They tried not to worry, though—maybe he was helping with things at Camp (such as the reconstruction they'd been doing for the past few months). Or maybe he was busy with Annabeth.

The whole not-worrying thing lasted until Annabeth Chase (who was now Percy's girlfriend, like Sally and Paul had predicted) showed up at their door.

"What is it?" Sally and Paul asked at the same time.

Annabeth was looking sort of tearful, which was surprising, since Paul hadn't taken much time to realize how tough she was. She didn't cry, even Percy admitted so.

"Percy," Annabeth said. She paused to take a breath. "Percy's gone missing."

"What?" Sally said. "How?"

Annabeth shook her head. "I don't know. We went to sleep on the night before last, and then we all woke up, and he wasn't anywhere to be found. We waited a day before panicking. And now we're panicking. He wouldn't have gone off willingly without telling anyone first, I know that."

Paul couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.

Sally let out a heavy breath. "Do you have any idea _who_ would want to kidnap him?"

Annabeth shook her head. "I've been searching. I've been searching so hard. Hera gave me a really vague clue. Butch convinced me to go on an extraction tomorrow, and I think it might give me a hint as to where Percy is. That's what I got from the message, at least."

"Extraction?" Paul asked. It was a measly attempt at distracting himself from the disappearance, but his throat closed up at the thought of it.

"New demigods," Annabeth explained, obviously grateful for the change of subject, too. "Extractions are what we call it when we find a potential demigod and go to retrieve them. We found three."

Paul nodded. "So, you really think that this will help?"

Annabeth shrugged. "Hera said so, but she's never really liked me."

Sally pursed her lips. She was struggling to keep herself together, and Paul could tell. She took a deep breath before saying, "Let's hope it helps."

Annabeth nodded. "Hope. I guess it's worked for us so far." She looked surprised that she was saying this, but she continued, "We'll get him back, Sally. We will. I won't rest until we do."

Sally shook her head. "No, Annabeth. Keep healthy. Percy wouldn't want you to exhaust yourself. Don't beat yourself up."

"I won't stop looking."

"I'm not asking you to."

Annabeth nodded. Her eyes watered, but she held it in. "I have to get back, to prepare. But, Sally..."

"I know, honey."

They hugged. They didn't let go for quite a while.

"I'm sorry, Paul," Annabeth said when they finally broke apart.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Annabeth," he tried to say soothingly. They hugged for a moment, and then she stepped back.

After clearing her throat, she said, "Percy's tough. He can handle himself." Paul didn't know if she was trying to convince them or herself.

"We know," Sally said. "He can."

Annabeth nodded. "Yeah, he can." She nodded again. "Well, I should be..."

"Going?" Sally finished. "Go, Annabeth. We'll talk later."

She nodded yet again and walked away.

Once Sally closed the door, she leaned against it, looking extremely pained. "I can't believe...No, wait, I can. But things were just starting to be normal again." She let out a shaky breath. "I just hope he's okay."

 _Hope_. There it was again. Annabeth was right—it had worked so far.

"Hope," he said aloud. "Keep it up. It leads to good places."

She smiled weakly. "Yes, Paul, it does. It does..."

They held each other. They didn't let go.

\- Δαιδαλώδης -

Paul woke up in the morning at the same time as Sally. They both bustled around, dressing themselves, brushing teeth, styling hair, eating breakfast, until Sally noticed that the landline for the apartment was blinking—they had a missed message.

Sally, as she took a bite of her bagel, pressed the "speaker" button, and then pressed "play message."

"Mom," they heard, and Sally gasped and nearly dropped her bagel. Putting a hand over her mouth, she leaned down in order to be closer to the voice that was her son's.

Paul moved forward and rubbed on Sally's back in comfort. _Percy was calling._ They hadn't heart from him in _six months_. This was the most amazing thing that had happened to them since Percy's disappearance.

Percy's voice sounded more beautiful to Paul than it ever had before.

"Hey, I'm alive. Hera put me to sleep for a while, and then she took my memory, and..."

Percy faltered. Hearing this was painful, but he was alive. He was alive!

"Anyway, I'm okay. I'm sorry. I'm on a quest—"

He seemed to regret saying this. His voice cracked a little as he continued, "I'll make it home. I promise. I love you."

And then...dial tone. Sally's knees buckled. "He promised, Paul. Percy doesn't break his promises."

Paul agreed. Percy _never_ broke his promises. He was a loyal, faithful young man, and he kept to his word. Paul had no doubt about this.

Sally replayed it a few times, and they listened. They just listened. The background of the call made it sound like he was at a train station. Percy's voice sounded hopeful and hopeless at the same time.

"Hera took his memory?" Sally said, finally. "That's...oh, gods. That's cruel."

Paul took a deep breath. He didn't know what to say.

But their hope was renewed. That was what mattered. Percy was okay, for the time being, and he'd make it home. They knew because he had promised. Percy had never broken his promises.

He wasn't about to start now.

\- Δαιδαλώδης -

Paul was sitting with Sally on the couch in the living room of the apartment, staring at the TV (though not really paying attention to anything that was happening on the screen). It had been desolate, lately, in the Jackson-Blofis residence. Everything seemed so _dull_ , without Percy there to goof them to death. Even after the phone call, the reassurance that he was, at least, _alive_ , could only help so much. He was on a quest—that much was obvious. And quests were dangerous. They were all probably off saving the world, again.

The phone call had been two days of bliss. After that, things went back to being bleak. Paul was there for Sally, and Sally took comfort in Paul, but he could only do so much. Percy was her _son_. Nothing, nothing in the world, could rival her love for her son.

There was a knock at the door.

Sally looked over and sighed, as though she didn't really want to get up.

"I'll get it," Paul told her. He took a gulp of water from his glass as he walked to the door, exhaled, and opened it.

He promptly dropped the glass of water, causing the cup to shatter and the water to explode everywhere.

"Oh my..."

Paul couldn't say anything else except, "Sally!"

"Who is it, Paul?" she asked, approaching from behind him. And then she stopped, a glee-filled, tearful expression coming onto her face. _"Percy?"_

Percy Jackson, in all his glory, grinned sheepishly at them from the doorway. "Hey, Mom. Paul."

They were both staring at him, unable to say anything else.

Percy pressed his lips together. "So, can I come in, or are you going to stare at me for the rest of the night?"

Percy looked different than before. He was muscly, and he was taller, and he no longer had that gray streak in his black hair. If his face had had any trace of boyishness left before he had disappeared, it was all gone, now. His sea-green eyes were almost the same as they always were—glinting with a small amount of amusement. But they were more fierce. He was wearing jeans and an orange Camp tee shirt. Everything seemed the same, but everything was different.

His aura was different.

Paul was the first to recover. He cleared his throat. "Um, no. Come in, Percy."

They both backed up, and Percy walked inside. He looked around the place, and he breathed deeply, and then he said, "Gods, I missed this place."

Sally closed her eyes for a moment, before saying, "Percy, you're home."

Percy cleared his throat. "Yes, Mom, I'm home."

And they both just...hugged. They hugged for what could have been hours, or minutes, or seconds, and tears were silently rolling down Sally's face, and Percy looked so pained that it hurt Paul physically to look at him. Paul tried to hold it together, for the sake of all of them—and though he prevented tears from falling, he wasn't sure that his face was as much controlled.

When it was over, Percy turned to Paul and hugged him, too, despite the fact that Percy and Paul had never gotten quite this close before. It felt good, Paul decided. Paul hugged Percy back, trying to convey how much he felt about this...

Percy pulled back. He took another deep breath, cleared his throat again, and said, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Sally took Percy's hand and led him to the couch. "I'm assuming something big happened?"

Percy bit his lip. "Um, yes."

From the way he said it, it sounded like he _really_ meant: _Something_ big _happened? Yeah, right. Something the size of the Jolly Green Giant on steroids happened. Standing on a pedestal. On top of a stack of Empire State Buildings._

"You don't have to tell us anything, Percy. Just sit with us. We'll talk."

Percy nodded, his eyes taking in everything about everything. "Yeah, we'll talk."

Whatever it was that had happened to Percy, they would get through it. No matter how bad. Because they were family, and they would always be there for each other.

 _Family_ , Paul thought to himself. He smiled. _Family_.

\- Δαιδαλώδης -

Paul wasn't perfect. He'd made mistakes in his lifetime. But one thing that he would _never, ever_ regret was meeting the Jacksons. He loved them more than he'd ever loved anything in his life. Nothing could compare to what he felt for them. Nothing could ever get in the way of that. He'd realized, before, that he was in it for good. He would forever be a part of the Jacksons' crazy lives. And, Paul decided, he wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
